


The Tiny House on Mount Silver

by Bloodandhugs



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Red & Green & Blue & Yellow | Pokemon Red Green Blue Yellow Versions
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Childhood Friends, Green gets philosophical and sad, Happy Ending, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Injuries, Not Underage, Red speaks, Suicidal Thoughts, green with anxiety, submissive green
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 20:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6822466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodandhugs/pseuds/Bloodandhugs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been seven years. Green was eighteen, hopeless, and lost. Red was also eighteen, and still had not returned. One night, after several losses, forced Green into a choice. Find Red, find himself, or take a stupid and life-altering risk. However, Green couldn't have known that climbing Mt. Silver would force him to do all of these things at once. <br/>((Entirely Game Universe, Rating will change as this progresses))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Green had been trying to convince himself that this was simply a phase he was going through. Some sort of depressive stage in his life, that would eventually fade and he would somehow return to normal. Normal. The truth was that normal wasn’t in sight, it was almost non-existent. When Green had lain sprawled across his bed, staring blurry-eyed at the photographs proudly displayed on his wall, above his hardly-used desk, he had come to a horrible realisation.

Red was his normal. Maybe he couldn’t call this a ‘realisation’. Perhaps he’d always known. Red was as constant as the seasons. Or at least, he had been. Red had always been a few steps behind him, eternally catching up with him. Beating him. Again, and again, and again.

At first he thought losing the championship was to blame.

In the years following his loss, the ultimate loss, Green had picked up speed. He knew he was ignoring something. It seemed as though his life was switched, in that now he was secondary to Red. In every way, shape and form. Red had taken down Giovanni, so now he was able to be a gym leader. Red had left his life, so he no longer had someone to follow, to beat. Red wasn’t coming back to challenge him again. He knew that.

Tears slurred the world around him. It was getting difficult to make out the faces in his photographs. Red, his parents, Daisy, Gramps, Gold.

Gold had been a difficult hit to Green’s life. The three years separating him from his old life could have continued smoothly if Gold hadn’t existed. If he didn’t have that smile, cheerfully unaware and beaming through the photograph. If he didn’t have that attitude, that hair, if he hadn’t been so relentlessly concerned.

Breathing was getting difficult. He felt the familiar grip on his heart, binding his ribcage. He’d already locked the door. It had never been losing the championship. It was everything.

He remembered how Daisy had said, one night when she’d caught her feeble and shivering brother sobbing alone, how most people don’t cry about just one thing. It’s many things, and one thing is just what brings all the feelings to the surface. That’s why, she had said, when I cry I try to get everything out even if it seems a bit silly. From that night, Daisy had noticed every time Green seemed thinner, seemed less confident than usual, when he was gone from the gym for more than a day or two.

Could he call her? Would she judge him for being a mess at ten o clock on a Tuesday night? Who else could he call at this time? What could he do? Was he actually considering asking for help? What a joke. To be in this state of mind, and so concerned for his own safety that he was considering talking about things. It wasn’t as if talking did anything. He would ramble for minutes upon minutes, sometimes spilling over to an hour or two. It always involved swimming through problem after problem, travelling through time, and they’d always ask the same thing eventually. _How long have you felt like this?_

_Since I lost._

Green knew it wasn’t just losing the championship. It wasn’t just letting his childhood dream go, yet knowing Red had achieved his. It wasn’t just being told he didn’t truly understand his life’s passion. It wasn’t just losing the chance to regain his dignity, losing the chance at a rematch. It wasn’t just having to live in Red’s shadow, as if he was simply a side note, a prologue attached to Red’s great adventure.

He would never admit that.

However, he felt that the hot tears stinging his eyes and what he felt was pathetic wallowing told otherwise. Thoughts were spinning, life was painful again, and Green had nobody to call. So Green took the course of action he often took when his mind turned south and was unable to get help; travel. Leave. Go anywhere but here and think about things, or at least calm down. He rushed around his room, grabbing essentials. Toiletries, clothing, medication- poké balls? Sure. Why not? Green might have been feeling rough then, but he thought there would very likely be a time he would want to battle again. The journal. He thought he might need to write. Money. Photographs? No, a bad idea. Would he really want Red’s smug face bothering him while he was trying to clear his head? He took a couple of them, ones he considered important. Wiping away tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, he threw a backpack over his shoulder and- wait, the camera. Green couldn’t leave without the camera. The only decision he needed to make was where he was going, and how long. The weather was raging outside, jet black and icy cold, the wind whipping viciously at Green’s warm winter coat.

On a day with an average amount of sadness to endure, and on a night where the weather was calm and clear, Green’s Pidgeot could have easily flown to the next town over, perhaps even several towns away. However, this had not been an average day, nor an average week, and this was not Green’s average Tuesday night. This was the Tuesday night where Green remembered nothing but a foolish desire, a reckless decision, a horrid, overpowering blizzard- and tumbling through the sky, unaware of how far he’d fallen, through spinning snow. Green had remembered, in the few moments he was falling, hearing Pidgeot’s cry in the distance, _when I land, I need to try to roll. I need to lessen the impact._

A painful thud and a rumbling roll later, and Green felt his body becoming numb in the cold of the deep snow. With his sight blurring and a dizziness flooding his head, a fear spread. He thought, now in a confused and panicked daze, _I need to stay awake. I can’t go out._ His lower leg erupted in pain as he tried to lift himself up, attempted to somehow get up. He struggled, groaning as pain spread fiercely, able to move his left leg but with difficulty. The air swirled around him, the world becoming a fizzing, spinning, sickening smear. _Do **not** pass out._

Those moments were the last thing Green could clearly remember before waking up after his rescue, and seeing the man that had occupied his thoughts for so long.

 

 

* * *

 

Green remembered stirring at some point during that loss of consciousness, now he thought perhaps he had been falling in and out of a dream. Vaguely he had a memory of someone holding him, and placing him on a soft surface. After that, his body became warmer and, he supposed, he must have lost the sense of danger. He had moved through some freezing, open space, being carried. The thought of him being dead, or slowly dying, entered his mind. Then, he had the more optimistic thought of having regained consciousness despite being weak. He had wanted to rest, more than anything. His eyelids too heavy to open, and minutes of being carried dragging like hours, he drifted away.

When he awoke, he found himself looking half-lidded at a cold cave wall, dry and somehow untouched by the weather of last night. He felt warm, his eyes touched by soft morning light spilling across his body. He moved his arms, feeling the fabrics over him. He felt he was in a sleeping bag, padded for warmth, and had a blanket loosely wrapped around him. His huge winter coat was no longer protecting him. With the amount of pain he remembered experiencing, he wondered if he was truly injured. His arms were moving fine, no pain there. He gave a small shuffle, trying to turn his body over-

“Argh-” Pain surged through his leg. Ah, there it was. That was definitely the injury, as it made his eyes forcefully close, his hand instinctively reaching to his leg.

“Mm. I thought you’d still be hurting.”

That voice.

Green’s heart stopped. My God, his voice. He opened his eyes carefully, hoping he could somehow evade this interaction. Hoping he could somehow pretend he was still half-asleep, or half-aware of his surroundings. The scene opened up before him.

“I’m glad you’re awake, though.”

He was still so quiet and light, even after his voice had deepened. Red sat, cross-legged, facing away from Green. Green didn’t need a face to recognise. There was a fire, crackling gently, being stoked lazily by Red. Green’s chest refused to relax, so Green just remained silent, trying to comprehend the situation he was in. He was in a cave. Red was just there, a few feet away from him. Beside Red sat a Charizard- what was he thinking? _Red’s_ Charizard- and lounging against his side was Pikachu, eating from a bowl. Green wanted to ask something, anything.

“…You are awake, right?” Red asked, still with the same cautious and quiet tone.

Green swallowed his fear. “Yeah.” He heard his own voice, harsh and full of sleep.

Red took in an almost preparatory breath. He didn’t wait for Green to ask.

“There was a blizzard. I think somehow Pidgeot was overwhelmed, and you fell.” A pause. Gauging the reaction. “Don’t worry. Pidgeot’s doing better than you are.”

_What an ominous way to reassure me_ , Green thought.

“I saw them trying to fly and crying out. I thought they were just a panicked Pokémon that was lost. They...” Red spoke hesitantly. “They led me to you.”

_How did you know it was mine? How did you help me?_

“Pidgeot… showed you where I was?” Green asked.

“Yeah. You learn to understand Pokémon when you live with them this long.”

Green figured it would be a good time to ask a few questions, after clearing his throat. However, if he was going to ask questions, he would like to be sitting up and not lounging on this cave floor.

“So you- ah,” Green attempted to say, cut off by the pain of trying to rise.

“Your leg’s injured, dummy.” Red gave a bitter smile.

“Wait, it’s- It’s not broken, is it?”

“No. It’s sprained. Your knee.” Red turned to face Green, to point vaguely at the affected knee.

“O-oh.” Green’s discomfort rose with Red’s eyes on him. A wave of embarrassment washed over him, fully understanding that his reckless actions had caused an injury that Red had been forced to treat.

“I called a doctor. You should rest for forty-eight to seventy-two hours.”

Now fully understanding that Red was now forced to care for him. For two to three days, at the least. Green was also processing the perceived lack of anger from Red. Green had risked severe injury, flown during a blizzard, and had now put himself into Red’s care- and worst of all, Red surely would have known that Green had made these idiotic decisions in an attempt to see him. The greatest humiliation and embarrassment possible would be for Red to know that Green had been so hopeless, so pathetically _desperate_ that he’d- No. Green forced his mind away from panic at what Red have might be thinking. He needed answers first, feelings later.

“…Where-” Green quickly checked his belt. No poké balls. “…Where are my other Pokémon?”

“Outside,” Red said plainly.

“What do you mean, ‘outside’?”

“I mean ‘outside playing with the others’ outside.”

“But you’re-! We’re on a mount-! Ow, ow, ow.”

“I told you to rest. They’re fine. They’re not going to fall off.”

Green found a position, still wrapped loosely in the blanket, which was least painful.

“So you just- you just sent them out. Just to play.”

“You got it,” Red showed that half-invested smile again. He looked Green in the eyes, and Green had grimaced internally. _Of course._ _Red’s mountain, Red’s rules._

“You didn’t have my permission to do that,” said Green, attempting to gain some authority.

“Gyarados scared me. I forgot you had him,” said Red, dismissing the attempt. Red pointed to the cave ceiling half-heartedly, as if something had come to mind. “I forgot you should have painkillers, too.”

“Painkillers?” Green looked around the huge cave, largely unfurnished. “You have painkillers?”

“Uh-huh. It’d be stupid to go travelling without basic medications.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“And another thing…” Red rose to his feet. “I need to get you some ice.”

Green looked to the mouth of the cave, where the fresh morning snow lay in a thick blanket. _Sounds like it will be quite the search,_ Green thought, falling into sarcastic habits.

“I’ll be back in a while. We can have breakfast then,” Red said, beginning to leave into the clear, white day. Green felt torn between wanting to desperately escape their conversation and wanting more answers, more explanation. “You can check up on your Pokémon if you’re up to walking a few feet. I’ve heard it’s good to move when something’s sprained.”

“Th-that’s a contradiction. You said I should rest.”

“That’s medicine for you.”

“W-wait. Red,” Green said on an emotional impulse.

“Hmm?” Red didn’t turn to face him.

“You’re… Are you… Aren’t you mad at me?”

Red sighed. “Yeah, I’m mad. I’m not focusing on that right now.”

“Right… I understand. We can talk about my stupidity later.” Green gave a bitter chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh, we will.” Red replied, greatly darkening the mood in return.


	2. Chapter 2

Green hadn’t slept in in what had felt like months, but Red had kindly informed him that he’d woken up at ten in the morning. It comforted Green to know that even in a situation like this, where Red was so far from normal society, Red still owned a Poliwhirl alarm clock. Red reapplied Green’s bandages, with Pikachu looking at the injury with fascination behind Red.

“I can do this myself, you know.” Green flinched as the bandage wrapped around his joint, hitting a sensitive nerve, the bandage slowly covering up the purple blossoms of bruising.

“This would be easier if you didn’t have to roll up your pants,” said Red. Green was starting to figure that Red ignored all statements he wasn’t interested in replying to, bringing up whatever topic he found more interesting or relevant.

“I wasn’t going to take them off. It’s… cold up here.” Green felt Red’s cold hands against his leg and flinched again. “Not everyone can live in sub-zero temperatures in short-sleeved jackets.”

“You didn’t mind me seeing your legs when we were kids,” Said Red, ignoring Green’s excuses.

“We’re eighteen now, Red. We’re not kids showing each other scabs and cuts anymore.”

“Really? From my point of view I’m looking at more than a scab or cut, and your latest decisions haven’t been exactly mature.” Green felt Red become less gentle in his handling of the injury. “We’re both boys, anyway.” Red attempted to look Green in the eyes once again. Green avoided this attempt.

“Yeah. Whatever.” Green tried to prevent blushing using willpower alone.

Red gave a small bag of ice to Green for him to hold against his knee, and Green suspected that by ice Red had clearly meant a very large and solid amount of snow instead.

It soon became clear to Green that Red was living off mostly huge amounts of carbohydrates, fish and the occasional frozen meat. This was shown immediately in that not only were he and Red eating rice this morning, but so was Pikachu. Way before Red had even began to cook fish for the two of them, Pikachu had been munching away. It wasn’t that Red was a bad cook, it was more that Red seemed to think the longer you cooked something, the better it was.

“Does… does Pikachu eat like that every day?” Green asked, chewing over-cooked Salmon.

“What do you mean?” Red asked in return, Pikachu giving an offended expression beside him.

“Does he never eat Pokémon food? Is it always human food?”

“They like human food.” Red shrugged.

“It can’t be good for them. They’ve… definitely put on some-”

“Don’t.” Red tipped his head to gesture to Pikachu’s face scrunched into a snarl. “They’re easily offended by… comments about weight.”

“Ah. I see.” Green was starting to think all their conversations for the next three days were going to be horrendously awkward. He poked nervously at his food, avoiding Red’s gaze. “So… about me being stupid.”

“You want to talk about that? I wanted to make sure you were safe and stable before scolding you.” Red searched quickly through a backpack and pulled out a set of unlabelled tablets to hand to Green. _Oh, yeah. The painkillers._

“That’s such a dad thing to say,” Green mumbled in a light tone, and his throat burned as he struggled to swallow two pills without water.

“Where were you so desperate to get to, anyway?”

Oh. Red didn’t know. Green couldn’t answer that question, so he lowered his head. Perhaps he could think of a convenient lie. Where could he have been going? Somewhere in Johto?

_To you, you absolute idiot._

“You do know how lucky you are, right?” Red kept trying to look directly into Green’s eyes, but Green wouldn’t allow it. Red paused, almost trying to arrange his anger into words that made sense. “I mean, what are the chances? What if you had been a few feet higher when you fell? What if you hadn’t protected your head? What if you didn’t land onto two feet of snow?”

“I get it, Red,” Green said in a low tone.

“No, I don’t think you really do.”

“If- If you’re mad about having to look after me-”

“Mad about looking after you?” Red’s voice rose unintentionally. He touched his face as a calming aid. “Green, you really are dense.”

Green opened his mouth to speak, to give a retort. Red was always the dense one.

“No. For once, Green, I really don’t want to listen to your feelings and plans for ages while I stay silent. You…” He took in a calming breath. “I’m… I’m not bothered by you staying here. I want you to heal. You can stay here until you’re walking again and then be on your way. You can go to wherever it was you were going.”

Green’s face burnt in shame. Red truly had no suspicion that Green would have wanted to see him. Green wanted to say, at the very least, that ending up in Red’s care was not something he wanted to escape as soon as possible. He couldn’t say that most of his motivation into flying that night had been to see Red. The fire crackled vigorously as Red pulled his thoughts together.

“…What the hell were you thinking?”

Green’s chest tightened.

“I- I wasn’t thinking,” Green said meekly.

“What kind of intelligent, adult person goes flying in a storm? You knew if it was bad in your own town, it would be worse up here! There was a storm in Viridian! You knew!”

“I- I did.”

“You put everyone you had with you in danger. All of your Pokémon.”

Green felt relieved that he was sitting a good distance away from Red. He felt that if he wasn’t, Red would be tempted to shake him, or beat on him. Red held his head with both hands in frustration.

Green was expecting Red to demand an answer from him. There was no way that Red was actually so dense that he would believe that Green actually wasn’t thinking. But strangely, Red didn’t demand anything at all. He simply returned to his point, pulling his emotions back into control.

“Whatever. I suppose it doesn’t matter to you,” Red said harshly.

Green thought he always had an excess of pride, but at that moment he didn’t have enough to argue about this; to defend himself.

“People make mistakes.” Red then said, rewriting his previous idea.

“Yeah,” Green replied.

“You’re very lucky,” Red tried a smile which ended bitterly, “…you’re even luckier that I’m here to look after you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Sleep did not come easily to Green during his first real night in Red’s cave. He had thought that the amount of energy that had been needed to prepare his tiny tent and try and break the tension between Red and himself would have caused enough tiredness, but something nagging, gnawing, kept away sleep’s comforting arms.

He dreamt that night, a dream he would not entirely remember the next day. A strange mixture of fiction and memory.

_Red and I are in the backseat of Red’s mum’s old van. I’m seven again, but I’m still thinking and speaking like an adult. We’re going to the beach, and Red seems reluctant, but as usual I don’t notice nor really care. Gramps always thinks it’s good to go out for free, and wants us to spend more time together. I don’t really know if Red likes me as much as Gramps likes Red. We barely talk in the car, but that’s fine. Red prefers to play with his action figures, and he knows my play plotlines often become too dramatic or violent. A car speeds past us, and police sirens chase it. My heart hurts, and I don’t know why. We’re at the beach now, and I relive when I pushed Red under the sea, and he spluttered and coughed at me, but didn’t tell me to stop. He never fights back directly. Red doesn’t like having his head underwater, but that’s why I did it. I’d make fun of the fact he couldn’t really swim, only vaguely paddle. We sit on a large rock, which feels like its miles away from the shore. It’s just us and the open air. Children can’t really appreciate the beauty of a moment like that, so we’re just seeing who can balance on the top the longest. He knocks me, and I knock him back, until we’re wrestling on this wet rock. I push too hard, and Red falls, and actually cries out as he hits the water. Red never cried for attention. He just held onto our island, and red liquid permeated the water around his arm._

Green was woken by noise outside, the unmistakable sound of Pokémon cries. Training? At this time? Green zipped open his tent, and could see the crowd of Pokémon, both his and Red’s, outside the cave. It was barely light out. Green felt a need to change, but wasn’t sure of the value of that if he wasn’t able to have a shower. Green used deodorant and threw on his winter coat, feeling strangely eager to greet Red. His leg pain surprised him once again. This might be harder to get used to than he thought it would be.

The snow now glittered in the slowly growing light of morning. Green watched the training without speaking for a minute or so, and noticed the pattern that had annoyed him throughout his first journey in the region. Red hardly speaks, even to his Pokémon. Pikachu, of course, is where this is most apparent. Pikachu seems to instinctively know which moves to perform, and when. Green watched as Pikachu battled with Red’s Espeon, darting around with incredible speed. Green only was able to recognise one move from another from studying and experience, as Red would often only nod, or tilt his head, to imply what Pikachu should do next. Green theorised maybe Red had some kind of sign language system. Perhaps this was part of a strategy, because if your opponent doesn’t call out an attack, it can be difficult to counter-attack, or even know what kind of damage has been inflicted. However, this kind of silence was a newer development, perhaps this use of signs was only in its infancy during their battles years ago.

“Green,” Red said, reacting to Green’s presence.

“Ah, sorry,” Green replied, approaching Red, “Just watching your technique. Or should I say, Pikachu’s.”

“Really? I feel like we’re a bit out of sync today. Did you sleep well?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” Green looked over the landscape, as the sun rose over the horizon, “Do you always get up this early just to train?”

“Usually. Yesterday I was focused on making sure you were doing alright.”

“Well, thank you for that... how much do you train, anyway?”

“Until I’m bored.”

“Right.” _How mature._

Red paused, considering something. Green felt a strange energy, more tension weaved into the air between them, and Green felt he needed to speak constantly to break it.

“How about training with me?” Asked Green uncertainly.

Red looked confused.

“Like, battling me… do you want to battle?” Green felt his stomach tighten, as if he was asking some girl he liked to prom, and was secretly worried she already had a date.

“You’re hurt,” said Red.

“Well, yeah, but- but it’s just my leg. I can move around fine, it doesn’t exactly take much movement to battle, does it?” Green wondered why he sounded so keen.

Red subtly rolled his eyes. “I’d rather not battle someone who isn’t in the right condition.”

 _Harsh._ Green didn’t fully understand why Red wouldn’t want an opponent. Anyone can battle, regardless of their physical state. Insecurity crept at the corners of Green’s mind. Perhaps he didn’t want to battle because he already knew that Green could be easily beaten. Green decided not to argue. Red probably wouldn’t explain his points anyway. He decided to change the subject.

“You look fresh, I mean- How are you… um, keeping clean up here?”

“You want a shower?” Red smiled. “Blastoise.”

“Excuse me?” Green hid behind Red.

“I’m joking.” Red chuckled quietly. “I have a place. You’ll like it.”

“What? Where, and… how?” Green’s mind was brought the idea of somehow having plumbing on top of a mountain, and how difficult that would be to set up for Red, and-

“Just get your things.” Red nudged Green playfully. “I’ll show you.”


End file.
